Warsworn

Before I could cry out, Keir surfaced before me, laughing and breathless.
    "Keir!" I exclaimed, wiping the water from my face, laughing in spite of myself. He chuckled, and strode back to the shore, returning to hand me one of the precious bars of vanilla scented soap. I thanked him, and started to lather my hands.
    Keir moved closer, water streaming down his body. "Let me help you with that." I cast him a sly glance. "Seems only fair, since you're the one that got me sticky." He reached for me, but I pulled back. "But if you help me, we will never get out of the water." He quirked his mouth. "I fail to see the problem, Warprize." I laughed, and he caught me, kissing me soundly. I let my soapy hands trail over his chest. He took the soap, and soon we were laughing breathlessly as we teased each other both above and below the water.
    Finally, he growled low, and pulled me toward him for a hard kiss. "Know what is even better than this, Lara?"
    I kissed his nose. "What?"
    "Food." He released me and headed for the shore, looking back over his shoulder with a wicked grin as I laughed.
    I plunged deep into the cool water determined to get every inch of my skin and hair squeaky clean. Bathing from a bucket in a tiny tent is no easy task. Of course, the Firelanders all just jumped nude in the water, any water they could find, every chance they got, and washed each other. Maybe if I bathed under the bells? I broke the surface of the water, laughing at the idea of waterlogged bells.
    Even as I washed my hair, I cast several glances Keir's way. Firelanders have no real understanding of modesty, and while it embarrasses me, there are times when I can appreciate its benefits. Keir was letting the sun dry his skin, not bothering to dress. The light through the leaves played over his strong back, and distracted me from my chore. I watched as he dug parcels out of the saddle bags, and laid them on the blanket. I returned to the task of rinsing my unruly locks. I didn't really pay any attention to what he was doing until I got a whiff of a familiar odor.
    I was twisting my hair, trying to wring as much water out as possible. "Keir? Do I smell bread?"
    "Come and see," he called. He was standing by the shore, with a spare blanket and drying cloth. I splashed through the water to the bank, shivering in the air that now felt cold. He wrapped me in the blanket, stole a quick kiss, and then carried me over to the 'nest' he had prepared.
    "It is bread," I breathed, as I settled on the blanket. I took the drying cloth and wrapped it around my hair. "Where in—"
    "Sal was buying stock for supplies, and the farmer's wife asked if you were with us." Keir reached for the loaf of bread and tore off a piece. "Apparently she was worried that you weren't being fed properly." He handed me the piece of bread, and a small crock of butter. My mouth watered, and I took the offered knife, and smeared the bread thick with butter and took a bite. I closed my eyes and chewed. The familiar food filled my mouth, and my senses with the taste of home.
    "There's more."
    My eyes popped open to see a baked chicken, bright apples, and a sweating jug. I grinned at Keir, and tore a leg off the chicken. Keir grabbed for the other one.
    For many moments, we just ate, licking fingers and sharing the jug. Keir used his dagger to cut apples into crisp slices. They crunched in my mouth, tangy and sweet. The ale was light, cold and bitter. It didn't take us long to strip the carcass to the bones, and consume every bit of the meal.
    I gave a great sigh of contentment as I padded to the edge of the water to wash my hands. I returned to the blanket, and dug through my bag to find my comb and a small bottle of vanilla scented oil. Combing the oil through my thick hair would help with the tangles. Ken-tossed the carcass off into the bushes, along with the apple cores. There wasn't a bit left of the bread, or the butter. He washed his hands in the water, and returned to pull fresh trous from the bags. I knew that was more for my comfort than for his.
    He rejoined me on the blanket, and lay back on one elbow to watch as I combed my hair. It was still damp, and I took my time working through the snarls. The light was still filtering through the leaves, but there was less of a breeze. The miseries of a few hours ago suddenly didn't seem so important. I smiled at my fears. Amazing what a real bath and a good meal can do for your spirits.
    "Marcus told me that you spoke to Joden